journey Archives - Julianne Harvey

In Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting

When Dreams Don’t Die

Julianne HarveyMarch 16, 2017March 16, 2017

Some dreams don’t die because they aren’t supposed to. They live on, growing silently in us until one day they bloom again and we remember how exquisitely we once longed for this particular wish to come true.

I’m learning acceptance right now. It’s one of my three words to focus on in 2017 and it’s a beautiful experience simply to practice accepting what comes without forcing it or coaxing circumstances to go my way. What happens is what is meant to happen, or so I finally believe in my experience as much as my verbiage, and the freedom inside of this discovery is as sweet as nectar.

This week I worked as an extra on a big TV series shot in Vancouver. All day, from my brutally early 6 am call until I was wrapped in the late afternoon, I felt like I was waking up to a dream that had become dormant but never really went away. I was able to access a much-younger version of myself through the experience, waving at her through the years to say, “I see you and now I can reach you.”

I’ve loved the film industry my entire life, writing screenplays since I was in my teens and sort of hanging around on the fringes of this life I dreamed of but couldn’t quite access. Now, somehow, I’m 44 years old and my almost 14-year-old daughter is pursuing an acting career and I’ve found myself back where I always wanted to be.

Our biggest dreams are always worth pursuing. But at certain times in our lives, other people and circumstances take priority and we don’t have the time or the resources or the abilities to go after our heart’s desire. No matter how many years go by, however, the flame is still burning inside of us for those things we are meant to do, and when we find ourselves touching that dream again it’s like a bit of pure magic.

I felt that this week. I remembered how much I loved filmmaking in my student days and for the glorious six days I worked on the TriStar lot in Culver City as a Production Assistant on a feature film. A lot of other worthy pursuits have occupied me from those days until now, 25 years later, but the profound joy of walking out this beautiful dream has never fully left me. It burst back into life when I was on set doing my part to make the scenes we shot sparkle and shine.

As Ava and I move through some exciting steps in her growing career, I feel a deep, abiding peace and gratitude. Big dreams are for everyone. They are not for a select few with talents beyond the rest of us. They are for anyone brave enough to simply go for it, no matter what the end result turns out to be.

The journey truly is the reward (as so many people have said to me but I never really understood until this year). When you choose to live in the present moment, refusing to forecast the future or stress out about what’s done and finished, you get to absorb each day as the fresh gift it is. Anything is possible. Your dreams are not as far away as you thought.

So if you have a big dream that you’ve veered far away from, remember that the pilot light for that hope is still burning in your soul. When the time is right, it will be there for you again, and you’ll recognize its warmth and light. You’ll be flooded with joy and renewed optimism. Suddenly you’ll be certain that it’s not too late. As long as you are alive, you can make your dreams come true provided you believe that you are worth the effort and you don’t give up.

In Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

Planting Seeds for Confident Kids

Julianne HarveySeptember 12, 2016September 12, 2016Leave a comment

Last week, my kids started at new schools. This summer, we moved to BC with the vision for a fresh start for all of us. Life is short, the world is big, and we don’t like to stay in the same place for too long.

I knew that both Ava and William would be fine, but the only way to be sure is to jump in and experience it for yourself. They’ve attended the same schools their entire life to this point, in small-town Alberta, so this would certainly be a different experience.

William’s school has about 200 more kids in it, but Ava’s new high school has 1900 students compared to around 350 where she attended before this. That’s a massive change, but we could see that she was ready for it.

It’s healthy to challenge ourselves by embracing a change. New experiences offer us a reboot; a chance to rebrand how we are with other people. It’s so hard and yet so good at the same time.

I’ve enjoyed watching both of my kids flourish in separate ways this past week. They have proved something to themselves. Pushing through our anxious butterflies is what moves us to the next level in our growth. Without a bit of external pressure, it’s far too easy to remain complacent and comfortable, a state that eventually leads to boredom.

My job now, as the parent of a ten year old and a thirteen year old, is to transition from hands-on mother to cheerleading coach. Our kids have to take the reins of their own life. They must be free to make their mistakes and celebrate their triumphs. This world can be a ridiculously scary place but it’s equally full of joy and beauty.

We cannot shield them from it. Our task is to walk alongside as they experience every type of emotion, serving as their tour guide to life by explaining our own journeys as a light for them to navigate theirs.

They don’t have to follow in our exact footsteps. What was right for us might be wrong for them. Our kids need our support, experience and ideas. They don’t need us to intervene, protect or to make their decisions and bear their consequences. This is how children learn (and adults too).

I’ve loved this past week. Watching Ava and William bloom into their new environments has inspired a surge of gratitude in me for the early work we did as parents. Confidence and resilience are not traits you can summon by snapping your fingers. They are seeds that grow over years of careful tending and watering. When you pay attention to that, eventually you see the most incredible and exciting results.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Writing

A Season of Plenty

Julianne HarveyMarch 1, 2016February 29, 20162 Comments

I’m trying to believe that I’m in the right spot along my life’s path. Too often I waste energy and joy by convincing myself that I’m falling behind. I get online (likely my first mistake) and I start comparing my progress to someone else’s. This leads to a self-induced panic that boils down to one thing: scarcity.

I hate viewing success as a pie with a limited number of slices. This faulty perception breeds paranoia and an unhealthy drive to be better than someone else in order to get ahead. Either the world is an exciting place, full of abundant possibilities, or it’s not.

Why is it so tempting to lean toward scarcity as a worldview? It’s so small and limiting. Abundance is much bigger, wider and happier. My thoughts betray me when I long for them to set me free. As humans, we are not meant to stay cramped and afraid. We are creatures of infinite possibility, but why would we try out our wings if we believe we are going to fall to the ground?

Process takes time. I’m convinced that the immediacy of the internet has given us outlandish expectations that everything we want is just a simple click away. Why wait for anything? As a culture, we’ve been sold a pack of lies about how entitled we are to success without actually working for it.

The natural world is about process and always has been. Our seasons last for months and you don’t get to skip ahead just because you want to. New growth takes time to unfold. Our modern on-demand world has set up impossible standards for us. We are looking for a shortcut to what we desire. Waiting and working hard feels like it’s for suckers, but it’s the only way there is. I’m recognizing that my perception is what needs to change.

I am on a path to something and so are you. It’s often slow and methodical. It winds on us with no advance warning. We follow our curiosity and sense of wonder to see where it will take us next. Roadblocks pop up and we must spend valuable time, money and resources finding a way around them. All of this matters and it’s all part of the journey. It’s our path to walk.

Comparing our road to another person’s is a waste of time. Our hard work is leading us where we want to go. The key is to disconnect from the fantasy of overnight success. No such thing exists. I have to believe that I am where I need to be. Perseverance is slow and long, but it gets us where we long to go. I’m choosing to see the world as abundant and optimistic, instead of scarce and competitive.

I’m on my journey and you are on yours. It will likely help us both to cheer each other on and hope that together we can accomplish more. I’ve done the small and cramped worldview, and it hasn’t given me good results. It’s time to open it up: to go deep and wide and bountiful; to move away from scarcity and into a season of plenty.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking, Writing

I Am Enough

Julianne HarveyFebruary 23, 2016February 21, 2016Leave a comment

I made a list of things I wanted to let go of in 2016. At the top of the list was this: my deep-seated fear that I am not enough.

I had no idea when I wrote that how massive the reverberations would be in my psyche from the earthquake this would cause. We’re seven weeks in to this new year, and expressing a willingness to work on this hidden area of shame and being less-than has cratered my life.

The explosion is the worst. It blows all of your security and coping mechanisms apart. You are left with nothing safe or familiar. You feel naked, exposed, stupid, alienated. You think you cannot survive what just happened, but then something miraculous occurs: you do.

Getting at wounds that feel primal takes a herculean effort at courage. We want to scatter, like rats or cockroaches, as soon as the light touches the poorly-healed scar. Our deepest and darkest secrets reside in these places. The pain is staggering, fresh, overwhelming. The first instinct is to run; to put as much distance as possible between you and the hurt, to throw everyone else off the scent by summoning every trick in our arsenal to show that we are the opposite of our greatest fear.

But if we don’t run, something remarkable happens to us and in us. We stare it down. In my case, I saw that over the course of my life, I’ve developed healthier skills that helped me face the anguish I’d been running from.

Just because I felt less-than doesn’t mean I am less-than. I could prove, to myself, that I am more successful than I’ve been allowing myself to take credit for. While staring into this stinking abyss of not being good enough, I saw that I already had what I needed to be happy, fulfilled and optimistic. It was already there. Now the task was to claim it, to hold it in my hand, to cease striving for someone else to give it to me and simply be enough exactly as I am in this moment.

It all had to fall to shit before I could see it clearly. I had to risk losing everything and everyone to see how much I already had. This one has been a muddy, long slog. No one else was responsible for my own sense of worth. This was on me. I had to feel the sting of the shame and the fear in order to stare it down and come out safely on the other side. And damn, was it a solitary and terrifying journey, but the other side is as wide open as the prairies.

I’m free in this new landscape. I own my choices, my value, my soul, my fresh belief that I am enough and always have been. But worrying about what came before is a fool’s errand and I’m done being foolish. I can only move on from here and live out of this place of truth and beauty, where forgiveness finally exists for myself as much as for anyone else.

It will be less lonely now, for I can choose whom to invite into this new reality – the one where I am enough, simply because I breathe, and not because I’m terrified to show you just how hard I’m working to prove my worth to you. Those days are gone and it all looks so different now.

Our inside reality determines how we experience everything. I’m not setting my value now in a hypothetical sense. This is finally real, part of my daily experience, and I’m not handing this gift to anyone now. It’s mine, I own it, and I’m going to treat it much better from this point forward.